"They need to have enough mind stamina to read your blog." says my friend as we make the grueling trek towards MTCC in the cold, getting pelted mercilessly by microscopic ice pellets every step of the way.
Mind stamina. Well I suppose that is true. Short, straightforward posts are undeniably the norm, because - let's be honest - many of us are sufficiently occupied with the current responsibilities in our lives. Majority of readers probably won't possess enough patience to make it through an entire entry of mine. But this only means that I express that much more appreciation towards those that are willing to make the effort.
Mind stamina. Well I suppose that is true. Short, straightforward posts are undeniably the norm, because - let's be honest - many of us are sufficiently occupied with the current responsibilities in our lives. Majority of readers probably won't possess enough patience to make it through an entire entry of mine. But this only means that I express that much more appreciation towards those that are willing to make the effort.
The monstrosity that was capstone wrecked havoc on my sanity. By the time I returned to campus after what seemed like a tortuous blur, I felt crippled: my wrist ceased to function at normal levels of operation, my mind was blank, and I was significantly more irritable. (But with a combined ten hours of restless sleep over two days, who wouldn't be?)
It was time for a sanity break.
I was in dire need of exercise, specifically walking. Embarking on a downtown adventure while trying out the city's newest hype was essentially killing two birds with one stone.
It was time for a sanity break.
I was in dire need of exercise, specifically walking. Embarking on a downtown adventure while trying out the city's newest hype was essentially killing two birds with one stone.
The spot that garnered attention both on Instagram and Snapchat was a tiny establishment I had passed by on a few occasions before, but did not think much of until it reappeared before me on social media. Located just southwest of Queen and Spadina, Square Fish was only a few steps from my all-time fave, Nohohon.
The restaurant had a narrow entrance that paved the way to a few 2-person tables, backless stools, and dingy yellow lighting. The odd placement location for stairs puzzled me (at least they had railings), while the sheer absence of hooks caused me to heave a huge sigh before robbing the adjacent table for a spot to place my jacket. With no other available spot in sight, I plopped my bag beside the Kikkoman bottle, though made sure to make meticulous movements in fear of knocking the sodium-laden sauce all over.
The restaurant had a narrow entrance that paved the way to a few 2-person tables, backless stools, and dingy yellow lighting. The odd placement location for stairs puzzled me (at least they had railings), while the sheer absence of hooks caused me to heave a huge sigh before robbing the adjacent table for a spot to place my jacket. With no other available spot in sight, I plopped my bag beside the Kikkoman bottle, though made sure to make meticulous movements in fear of knocking the sodium-laden sauce all over.
Square Fish's storefront does not retain a cohesive aura compared to its poorly-illuminated but funky interior. The colour and arrangement of the their logo was abstract and evoked feelings of a technical consultant. I enjoyed that the interior was covered in white tiles reminiscent of graph paper, and then enhanced with multi-toned one-dimension fish features (presumably painted by a local artist named K. Hatanaka); I just wished that space wasn't so scarce.
My assumption is that they cater largely to those working in the area, since the dining area is seriously compact. Should lineups form within the establishment, there would be little to no breathing space. It was noticed that they participate in Ritual and foodora services.
My assumption is that they cater largely to those working in the area, since the dining area is seriously compact. Should lineups form within the establishment, there would be little to no breathing space. It was noticed that they participate in Ritual and foodora services.
A laminated sheet comprising completely of black text on a white background, the menu fit the description of a dry lecture presentation. The lack of graphics, or even colour for that matter, made it difficult to distinguish the choices available. On the bright side, the display of plastic-wrapped items next to the cashier compensated by providing a visual representation of the store's most popular items.
The menu consisted of: Sushi Donuts ("Doshi") with choices of Salmon and Tuna (as well as less popular options such as Shrimp and Veggie), sushi burritos ("Rolls") with choices of Salmon, Tuna, Kimchi Beef, Shrimp, Chicken, and Veggie, Signature Squares, and Poke Bowls.
The menu consisted of: Sushi Donuts ("Doshi") with choices of Salmon and Tuna (as well as less popular options such as Shrimp and Veggie), sushi burritos ("Rolls") with choices of Salmon, Tuna, Kimchi Beef, Shrimp, Chicken, and Veggie, Signature Squares, and Poke Bowls.
< Pictured above and below: Combo 1 (Salmon Doshi, 3 Squares, Kale Salad) + Combo 2 (Salmon Half Roll, 3 Torched Squares, Taro Chips) >
Derived from social media posts, it can assumed that poke bowls are the least popular, which is reasonable given the more unique selection of geometric sushi. The Signature Squares were very much reflective of their name, but regrettably not distinctive enough to impress.
It was essentially an attempt at halving oshizushi, but with minimal depth of flavour, poor compaction procedures, it left much to be desired for an item of equal preparation complexity.
Derived from social media posts, it can assumed that poke bowls are the least popular, which is reasonable given the more unique selection of geometric sushi. The Signature Squares were very much reflective of their name, but regrettably not distinctive enough to impress.
It was essentially an attempt at halving oshizushi, but with minimal depth of flavour, poor compaction procedures, it left much to be desired for an item of equal preparation complexity.
View the full album HERE !
The sushi rice also lacked some dosage of vinegar/salt, resulting in absolute disintegration upon contact with chopsticks. Having to describe their signature dish as boring and poorly-executed inflicts as much pain on me as to the dish's creators. However, I can't glorify a product with an excessive amount of rice and very little protein.
Torched Squares, a trio that we relinquished an additional dollar to obtain, was an Aburi knockoff. While fresh, the fish lacked the thickness and fatty properties of Aburi-grade sashimi. When torched, the natural oils are supposed to seep into the underlying rice layer, supplying suppleness and a sophisticated flavour. In this scenario, the natural oils contained within the fish simply stayed put; torching was merely for visual points. As with the Signature Squares, the ratio of salmon/tuna to rice is extremely disappointing. It also happens that substituting tuna is an extra dollar.
Torched Squares, a trio that we relinquished an additional dollar to obtain, was an Aburi knockoff. While fresh, the fish lacked the thickness and fatty properties of Aburi-grade sashimi. When torched, the natural oils are supposed to seep into the underlying rice layer, supplying suppleness and a sophisticated flavour. In this scenario, the natural oils contained within the fish simply stayed put; torching was merely for visual points. As with the Signature Squares, the ratio of salmon/tuna to rice is extremely disappointing. It also happens that substituting tuna is an extra dollar.
The Half-Roll, or half-sized sushi burrito for the common folk, was average in all aspects and honestly a bit too much after consuming majority of the combo. Comprised of the same components as the other items on the combo platters, it was gustatory deja vu, and not in a pleasant way either. While I initially presumed the crispy shreds inside the rolls to be tempura bits, they were actually discovered to be strips of the taro chips upon biting into the specimen. The unexpected surprise had me recoil in defense.
Salmon Doshi - the supposed highlight of the visit - was honestly just an ordinary compilation that could only be classified as a rookie attempt at fusion cuisine. Its top layer consisted of two thin slices of salmon and three meager slices of avocado laid on top of a mound of poorly-compacted sushi rice. Underneath was, you guessed it, more rice along with an equally thin (but thankfully larger) piece of salmon. Situated at the very bottom was a deep fried rice patty. Why didn't they just fry both for sake of ease? We were informed to use the white serving paper as a wrapper to eat the doshi. Either way, it still made for a messy consumption process, so I took to just took to picking at it, layer by layer, with chopsticks. To be frank, it adopted the anatomy of a burger rather than a donut. The combination of textures made it a fine lunch item, but it would not earn my pick for a portable, well-balanced meal.
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Taro chips were crispy but lacked seasoning. The pieces were also unfathomably greasy - a sign of inadequate draining.
Kale salad was satisfactory; sweet corn kernels and creamy dressing were tasteful additions. I expected coarse leaves of kale, though these were suprisingly easy to digest and retained flavour well. (But just WHY were there more taro chip shreds in the salad?! More deja vu.)
In contrast to the items we surveyed, service was exceptional: the girl behind the cashier was extremely friendly and welcoming. Her bright smile compensated for the lack of proper lighting, but only ever so slightly.
Square Fish provided disposable utensils, plastic containers for yellow pickled ginger (too spicy if you ask me) and wasabi. Yet oddly enough, the menu items were served on weighty marble boards and white ceramic containers. I can't say stairs, heavy serving boards, and fragile fusion creations are a combination that compliment each other too well.
Kale salad was satisfactory; sweet corn kernels and creamy dressing were tasteful additions. I expected coarse leaves of kale, though these were suprisingly easy to digest and retained flavour well. (But just WHY were there more taro chip shreds in the salad?! More deja vu.)
In contrast to the items we surveyed, service was exceptional: the girl behind the cashier was extremely friendly and welcoming. Her bright smile compensated for the lack of proper lighting, but only ever so slightly.
Square Fish provided disposable utensils, plastic containers for yellow pickled ginger (too spicy if you ask me) and wasabi. Yet oddly enough, the menu items were served on weighty marble boards and white ceramic containers. I can't say stairs, heavy serving boards, and fragile fusion creations are a combination that compliment each other too well.
For those with fluctuating appetites, the fact that they offer half portions of poke bowls and sushi burritos is a bonus. Combos are also a convenient and economic way of trying several items at once. They also had an orange-infused water dispenser fixated in the corner, though I couldn't quite perceive any hints of citrus in my Styrofoam cup.
Speaking solely for Combos and not individual orders, the prices were well-justified for the portion size, though flavour and originality were indefinitely lacking. I'm glad we chose the combos, as it's improbably I'll ever go back.
A final reminder: there are no bathrooms, so come prepared with wet wipes and avoid over-quenching.
Speaking solely for Combos and not individual orders, the prices were well-justified for the portion size, though flavour and originality were indefinitely lacking. I'm glad we chose the combos, as it's improbably I'll ever go back.
A final reminder: there are no bathrooms, so come prepared with wet wipes and avoid over-quenching.
Of course, I couldn't depart the area before grabbing Nohohon. It's always a honour to be able to introduce my favourite tea room to my accompanying dining companion.
< Pictured above: Lavenderbrew w/ tapioca and Momo Oolong w/ lychee jelly >
Nohohon was awesome as always.
Nohohon was awesome as always.
Despite the delightful weather that showered down upon us, I was eager to get my hands on Uncle Tetsu's most recent creation: Triple-Baked Cheese Tarts.
Since catching a glimpse of the Matcha Cafe's transformation into Uncle Tetsu BAKE, I had been eager to taste the results, in the most literal sense possible.
Since catching a glimpse of the Matcha Cafe's transformation into Uncle Tetsu BAKE, I had been eager to taste the results, in the most literal sense possible.
Majority of the interior remained the same: cashier, baking apparatus, menu location, shelf, framed photos, light fixtures, line-up area, etc. The colour scheme was altered to a warm orange from a cool green, the chalkboard bore different promotions, and the uniforms adopted a different theme. Regardless, it was mainly the products that had evolved to fill the current market niche.
Cheese tarts were sold individually for $3.50 or packs of six for $17.50 as part of a Buy 5 Get 1 Free and no tax deal. It's uncertain whether this purchasing option will last as long as the madeleine deal did, but I sure hope it remains the next time I visit.
Cheese tarts were sold individually for $3.50 or packs of six for $17.50 as part of a Buy 5 Get 1 Free and no tax deal. It's uncertain whether this purchasing option will last as long as the madeleine deal did, but I sure hope it remains the next time I visit.
One of my largest gripes about fugo is their packaging: awkwardly-sized boxes and paper bags are anything but commuter-friendly (and don't even get me started on the plastic bag deficiency they first faced when their 2-inch tarts were introduced). Albeit sporting an attractive graphic, Love Me Sweet's carrying case was long and narrow, making it inconvenient for transport when without a vehicle.
Uncle Tetsu eliminated all of my woes by presenting a compact, space-efficient design that skillfully embraced six regular-sized cheese tarts between two levels of separators. All the tarts were contained with minimal space for movement, ridding the fear of potential damage from accidental swinging. Resembling a high-tech travel makeup case, the design was practically foolproof. Best of all, it came with a durable, logo-embossed plastic bag with a ample handle space.
Uncle Tetsu eliminated all of my woes by presenting a compact, space-efficient design that skillfully embraced six regular-sized cheese tarts between two levels of separators. All the tarts were contained with minimal space for movement, ridding the fear of potential damage from accidental swinging. Resembling a high-tech travel makeup case, the design was practically foolproof. Best of all, it came with a durable, logo-embossed plastic bag with a ample handle space.
The tarts came with a small pamphlet outlining the various methods of consumption. It provided storing instructions in addition to recommendations on devouring the tarts at varying temperatures. Whether fresh out of the oven or icy cold from the freezer, the cheesy circular pastries could be enjoyed according to one's preferences.
I opted for the second alternative: refrigerating, then reheating in a toaster oven. My first observation was that the tart shell was much firmer than any other shop I've tried. Despite this, it wasn't particularly thick. Opposed to flaky, buttery shells, this offered an unbeatable crunch that paired exceptionally with its creamy, indulgent filling.
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"Triple-Baked", I presume, is an indication of the three baking steps required to cook the tart shell, remove moisture from the cheese filling, and the final blowtorching step to lend a golden, charred surface This procedure yielded a flawlessly fragrant result that put other shops in a more vulnerable position. Bake Code and fugo were originally tied for the top spot, but with all other factors taken into consideration (ie. portability, flavour, price, and convenience), I'd have to admit that this visit proved triumphant.
A little less lava-like than the former and a tad more mild in terms of richness than the latter, this 3-inch tart is the ultimate cheesy composition. Uncle Tetsu has done it once again.
A little less lava-like than the former and a tad more mild in terms of richness than the latter, this 3-inch tart is the ultimate cheesy composition. Uncle Tetsu has done it once again.
(Shall I make a definitive ranking of Cheese Tarts?? The addiction seems to propagate exponentially...)
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